Luneshale Pass sword of destiny

yes.

kóvictus tightened his grip, nails digging into the damp sand whilst his herculean frame bore down on hers. the heat radiating between them oppressive and overwhelming. ione’s words—mark me—were met gleefully with a resounding growl. he would gladly satisfy her. he would not deny her. primal strength thumped through bloodied veins.

a growl again came forth from his throat, guttural, as his teeth find the curve of her neck, dragging over her fur with unrelenting pressure. his breath fanned hot and heavy against her skin as he bit down—not soft, not cruel, but firm. enough that she would feel pain thudding against her skin, and she would enjoy it.

relish in his strength. let her feel but a small fraction of what he’d do to any who defied them.

he did nothing halfway. he shifted his weight off her only slightly, ensuring she remained compliant by the scruff of fur and skin tight within his iron jaws. slowly, so that she might gaze at him, he hikes a strong back leg over her. eyes of molten silver beading into her all the while. hot streams hit her fur, dampening her belly and eventually her backside. filling the air with his pungent musk and soaking her in his claim. masking her scent with his own.

a laugh, hungry, rumbles in his throat. satisfied. he grazes his teeth again along her neck and throat, inhaling what remained of her own sweet scent.